O thou bereft, and brooding o'er the past,
Today the Christ is calling tenderly:
Here in the present all of good thou hast,—
Naught can be lost that Love hath given thee.
The words, "I will not leave you comfortless,"
Fulfilment bring, from sorrow setteth free.
With Truth abiding in our consciousness,
Death has no sting, the grave no victory.
